Inky blackness
by Vest and Bow Tie
Summary: With the Serenity damaged and out of fuel in the middle of the 'verse, there is only one organisation which can save them!


Hi Guys! This really started a just a desire to see more of Thunderbird 3 and any Firefly related media. So I thought, hey, why not? Call it an experiment, call it crap, call it what you want, but please, with something as strange as this, I need you to call it something. Please, please read and review. Don't expect many or frequent updates, this is way down on my list of priorities, but I'll do my best.

As far as timelines go, this is pre-Serenity and Movie-verse Thunderbirds (stop throwing things!) but a few years after the movie.

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><p>Alan's breath was loud in his ears. He was wearing full firefighting getup which included its own self-contained air supply. He had a helmet on with a full face transparent mask, and it was fogging up. He recoiled as a burning rafter crashed down to his left. His world was full of rolling dark grey and flashes of glaring orange. He was running, and he crashed into a wall. He bounced off the brick, but even from the brief contact he could tell it was burning hot. Though he knew he was safe from the smoke he dropped to his knees to escape it. He froze like that for a second, curled into a ball, breathing as deeply as he dared. He became aware of a voice in his ear.<p>

"Alan. Dammit, Alan, what's going on in there?" The concerned voice of Alan's older brother Scott permeated through Alan's head. Alan shook himself before standing and replying. He found himself slipping into his customary cocky attitude and surprised himself with his reply.

"Bro, please, I got this." Alan could almost hear Scott's frown.

"Be careful Alan." Alan, heart pounding in his ears, did not reply. He slid along the wall, and after what felt like an age, he found the door. Hunching, he took a step back and then threw his weight behind his shoulder. He needn't have bothered. The door, warped from the heat, gave easily and Alan stumbled into the room. Over the roaring of the fire he could make out the panicked screams of the family that lived in this building. Turning, he saw them huddled in a corner. He reached them in two steps and was struck by how helpless they were. He was standing over them, his apparatus protecting him from the heat and allowing him to breathe effortlessly. They cowered before him, a spectre with flames flashing off his visor and wreathed in his white fire-retardant suit. He unslung his backpack, unloaded three portable breathing masks and delivered them into the eagerly reaching hands before him. He helped the smallest figure wrap the straps around his head. At least, Alan supposed the figure was a boy. He tried to stare through the smoke, but he couldn't identify the age of the figure, much less his gender.

"Scott," he called reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow, realising with a tight smile that from inside his helmet, that was unlikely to happen, "where's the nearest exit? I got a little kid here bro, we gotta go!"

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><p>"Wash, what in the deep black 'verse are you doing to my ship!?"<p>

Captain Malcom Reynolds of the _Serenity_ was having a bad day. They had arrived at a job, a wreck that had looked like it might have had a lot of salvage, to find it picked clean by other looters. _Less professional looters, _Mal growled in his head. They must have accidently alerted the Alliance, because within minutes, a patrol approached and hailed the _Serenity. _The small, Firefly class transport was currently fleeing the patrol, and less than smoothly. The whole ship shook again, and Mal rose angrily from his seat, stalking into the cockpit. Wash was frantically pressing buttons and flipping switches in the pilot's seat. Slouching lazily in the co-pilot's seat was River, watching Wash and smiling sleepily. River turned to the captain.

"We are a leaf in a storm," she declared softly, thoroughly spooking the captain.

"Wash, you break it, you gotta pay for it," he snapped. Wash ignored the comment and continued to flip switches on different panels with different hands. Mal frowned. "You know, if you put your hands on the wheel, it might stop shaking like that." Wash kept frantically messing with his control panel, and the captain was about to repeat his comment, when Wash finally replied.

"Yeah, about that, you see Mal, steering wheels are very retro, but–" The ship shuddered massively, almost knocking Wash out of his chair. "—but all the cool kids these days fly without 'em. I disabled this on the last planet we docked at…" Mal snarled.

"You maimed my ship? You better survive this mess, Wash, because I swear I will end you myself!" A flicker of nervousness passed through Wash, but he was not unduly worried. Every time the ship rattled like it was now, the captain made similar threats. Wash turned back to his controls, continuing to use every switch, lever and button except for the steering wheel. Wash was beginning to regret disabling the wheel. Certainly, he had a finer degree of control with all the various buttons and switches, but he didn't know what half of them did and there was a good chance he would hit someth—a red alarm light started pulsing. Wash swore softly and tried to find whatever button had caused the warning, but a brief inspection of the panel before him and beside him revealed nothing. He decided to carry on as he had been, flipping whichever switches seemed appropriate. Mal, however, was not happy with his cursory search.

"Wash, do you see that red flashing thing over your head?" Wash gritted his teeth and tried to ignore his captain. "That means something bad is going to happen. I'd really rather that didn't happen; I am ever so fond of being alive." Suddenly, a siren started to wail and the shaking intensified for a period, followed by a huge _Thunk!_ The shaking returned to normal and the siren stopped. The light stopped pulsing and Wash looked at Mal smugly.

"See Mal, nothing to worry—" Wash was cut off by a calm, female voice from the overhead speakers.

"Fuel dump completed." Wash paled very quickly. Mal, on the other hand, darkened with rage.

"Fuel dump? _Fuel Dump! _Wash, what in the name of my Aunt betty's floral petticoat was that lady talking about?" Wash looked at the panel before him and saw off to the side a nondescript black button with a peeling label which read 'Dump Fuel.' He turned back to Mal, but was saved from having to respond by another entry to the cockpit; Zoe, The ship's first mate and – _rather unfortunately, at times like this, _thought the captain – Wash's wife.

"Darling, you crashin' us again?" Zoe brushed past the captain to stand behind the pilot's chair. She placed one ebony hand reassuringly on her husband's shoulder. The captain stared with exaggerated affront at the blatant disregard shown for him by his first mate. River, catching the captain's eye, giggled. Zoe stiffened at the sound, but then relaxed and continued to ignore Mal. Another shudder passed through the ship, and Mal became aware of a weight in the pit of his stomach.


End file.
